Tore My Heart in Sunder
by descoperitor
Summary: The war is finally over. Much of the pain and suffering left in its wake has dissipated, although nothing can completely repair the broken hearts trampled by the ravaging of Wizarding Britain. However, there is one man who still suffers. And not because of the war, so much as another thing. But why is Harry Potter still suffering, and what does Draco Malfoy have to do with it?
1. Prologue

**Summary** : The war is finally over. Much of the pain and suffering left in its wake has dissipated, although nothing can completely repair the broken hearts trampled by the ravaging of Wizarding Britain. However, there is one man who still suffers. And not because of the war, so much as another thing. But why is Harry Potter still suffering, and what does Draco Malfoy have to do with it? Alive!Sirius,Remus,Nymphadora,Severus

 **Pairings** : HPDM, RLNT, SBSS, RWHG

 **Warnings** : Slash and Het (not too much graphic), Violence (mentions of, graphic memories), Abuse (mentions of)

 **Note** : I've had to change some birthdays.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter. No money is made from the writing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

.:oOo:.

He would not stay for me, and who can wonder?  
He would not stay for me to stand and gaze.  
I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder,  
And went with half my life about my ways.

by A. E. Housman

.:oOo:.

 **Tore My Heart in Sunder**

Prologue

.:oOo:.

The snow was pouring down in sheets. The little white crystals fell from the sky, coating everything below it in a blanket of white. The night air was so frigid that many a Muggle would need to be soon replacing the thermometer they kept outside. The sky was covered in a grey haze of clouds, stacked up as a castle with turrets higher than the eye can see, and yet, by some coincidence, the moon was the perfect spot to be seen just through hole in the clouds, its full, vigilant gaze sweeping the Earth for people who had recklessly stayed outside.

Despite all the harsh beauty of the night, easily observed from the safe confines of a warm house, a man stood, his black t-shirt a stark contrast to the bright sheets now covering the the land, as in a feeble attempt to put the land to sleep.

As the man stood there, he watched. As the trees surrounding his figure leant him their obscurity, he watched the manor in the distance. And, he waited.

He paid close attention as, one by one, the lights shining out the windows of the manor slowly began to fade as the candles emitting them burned the last of their wick. All of a sudden, the last one died, and the manor and its surroundings were plunged into near abject darkness, illuminated only minutely by the small moon that reflected only a little of the sun's magnificence.

The man waited more, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, hours. Who could tell? If no one was to observe its passage, did time pass at all? And how fast?

Alas, we cannot know such as thing.

As it was, the man waited until he finally heard the even breathing of all the houses inhabitants. Finally, Morpheus had taken them, if temporarily, from their mortal coils and allowed them a brief respite in the land of Eternity and Nothingness.

As the man heard this, he finally began to move. Slowly, he made his first step, the cold not having affected his limbs despite the hours he had spent with few layers protecting him from the frost. His steps, eerily silent, as though he had no effect on whatever he stepped on, began slowly, then picked up to a run, faster than anything anyone has ever seen, yet still eerily silent. One, had they been there, could not even be sure he had been there as he passed them, a silent blur, almost as though the moon's mischievous light had tricked yet another person.

Finally, the man came to a stop. The manor, what had once seemed a mere shack in the distance, now loomed over him, its large columns and sturdy walls standing a vigilant guard over its inhabitants. As he approached the door, the man once again saw the familiar sight of the family's motto engraved above the door. _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_ it read, the large, imposing letters declaring the former beliefs of the Malfoy family.

Ridding himself of his ever-persistent awe at the magnificence of Malfoy Manor, the man stepped up to the door. Standing there, he waited a few minutes. He stood there, thinking about how his life would have been if he was allowed to enter.

With a sigh, he set the twelve roses he had been carrying down tenderly on the steps, careful not to crush their delicate petals. He also left there a small package, a little box wrapped in silver and red paper.

As the man stood up prepared to apparate, he let his eye linger on the tag on the box. Unknown to him, a single tear was shed from his eye, and made a path down his tender, loving face, melting the frost that had collected there without his notice. He apparated.

The tag had read: _To my dear Draconis_.

.:oOo:.

A/N: I know it was short! Fear not, it will be continued. I just wanted to have a Prologue that left off somewhere that was evil. Because I'm an evil person.

What happens next? Review PLEASE! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, here is the second installment of _Tore My Heart in Sunder_.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. No money is made from the writing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

.:oOo:.

Chapter 1

.:oOo:.

Harry Potter trudged through the Chamber of Secrets, his bare feet eerily making no noise, despite their splashing in the water that still somehow permeated the lower dungeons. His black t-shirt did nothing to protect him from the damp coldness of the dungeons, however he did not notice this.

Harry was deep in thought. There was a tear on his cheek, shaking with the effort it took to hang onto his jaw. Its track was still evident, the frost it had melted on the way from his eye flowing down and adding to the tear's weight.

Harry barely noticed as he left the second floor girls' bathroom and made his way up through the school to the seventh floor, which housed his quarters.

Harry finally took note of the world as he entered his quarters, only to find Severus sitting in his favorite armchair and holding out a goblet for Harry. Severus did not look up from his book as Harry took the proffered goblet, and only looked up when Harry said, "Get out of my chair."

Severus nodded, moving from his position to the couch, before resuming his book, taking a sip from his own goblet every once in a while.

"I won't be here as school resumes," Severus said, bringing Harry from his listless staring into the flames that sprung from his fireplace.

"Why?" was the reply.

"Sirius has asked me to accompany him on a vacation."

"Where to?"

"The States. New York, I believe," came the reply, and a hint of excitement leaked through his stoic voice.

Harry nodded, and then went back to staring at the fire. He said a quiet goodbye to Severus as the man left his quarters, no doubt to join his lover.

It was only as Harry went to bed late that night that he realized he had forgotten to ask who was to replace Severus as Potions Master.

.:oOo:.

The next morning, Harry awoke in time to watch the sun come up over the horizon and melt the top layers of snow with its brilliant rays. He got dressed and made his way to the Great Hall, where the early-risers were just now sitting down to breakfast. He nodded at the students as he passed them, and said a quiet hello to those who were close enough to hear.

As he sat down, his customary goblet appeared in front of him, and he began to slowly sip its contents, keeping an eye on the students who slowly trickled in from their dorms.

Eventually, Minerva came down, the first professor besides Harry to sit at the table.

"Good morning, Headmistress," Harry said to her as she took her seat next to him.

She threw him a quick mock glare, before replying customarily, "To you as well, Deputy Headmaster."

"How did you sleep, Minerva?"

"Better than you did, I presume," she said, suspicion coloring her tone.

"And how would you know that?" Harry asked.

"Today is the 21st of December," she said, and barely noticed the stricken look on Harry's face before it disappeared.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

She looked at him with something akin to understanding. "Nothing, I suppose," she replied, as she did every year.

.:oOo:.

It was a tacit rule in Hogwarts that no one _ever_ approached Professor Potter on the 21st of December. No one knew why, but everyone steered clear of him on that day. He was no more mean on that day (not that he ever was). If anything, he seemed kinder. But still, no one ever interacted with him.

Little Amanda Wood knew this, as all students did. However, unlike her peers, she wanted to know why. As her fellow second years dragged her with them to have a snowball fight, she saw Professor Potter sitting in his customary place for this day. He sat alone, under the Whomping Willow, who, strangely enough, did not move at all.

Sitting there all alone, his face between his knees, he looked rather melancholy. In fact, little Amanda would say he looked downright heartbroken.

So, despite the warnings of her classmates, she broke the rule of Hogwarts, and went over to him.

"Professor Potter?" she asked a little loud as she waited outside the Willow's branch-span.

He looked up from his knees, and beckoned her over to him. "Don't worry, he won't hit," the professor said with a small, sad smile, giving an affectionate rub to the Willow's trunk.

Despite her (many) misgivings, she walked slowly over to him. "We're going to start a snowball fight. Would you like to join us?" she asked.

He looked up at her, and she saw the most agonizing emotions in his eyes. The pain of loss, of rejection, of wanting. And, as much as a twelve-year-old could, she pitied this man in front of her, wondering what he had been through to put these emotions in his eyes.

She knew the basic history of the war, what the legendary Harry Potter had suffered, but also what he had gained. However, this...shell of a man in front of her, seemingly so capable of love and joy, had only had things taken from him, and never got to experience the joys of youthful life.

He looked up at her, his shock at having been disturbed on this day finally coloring his face. He did not start the custom of people avoiding him on the 21st of December, but he did not stop it either. He needed it.

However, since he had gone through what he had, he made it a point always to be very polite to people, even more so on this day. That was probably what had given this day away as a time of necessary isolation for Harry. So, with that in mind, he looked up at little Amanda Wood, and said, "I would love to."

Hoisting himself off the ground, he walked over to the group of lower years, and waited awkwardly for someone to begin.

Seeing that this was getting no where, Amanda picked up some snow, balled it up, and threw it at the back of Professor Potter's head. The head whipped around so fast that she felt _herself_ get whiplash, and then a smaller snowball was flying at her, before striking her in the chest. Suddenly a few more snowballs were lobbed at the professor, then more, and more.

He kept trying to retaliate, but there were too many students throwing them at him. Eventually, the game turned from a snowball fight to a dogpile with Harry at the bottom. He laughed, smiled, and a little joy kindled to life in his eyes, but it was not enough to overshadow the other emotions permanently rooted in them.

It was this sight that first greeted Draconis Malfoy as he walked up to the castle from the gates of Hogwarts.

.:oOo:.

 **A/N:** Well, a cliffhanger. What happens next? Stay tuned!

REVIEW PLEASE. NOM NOM NOM I LOVE REVIEWS NOM NOM NOM! :)


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Welcome to the next part of _Tore My Heart in Sunder_. Enjoy, R &R please!

.:oOo:.

 **Chapter 2**

.:oOo:.

"Happy birthday, Draco."

"Thank you, Uncle Severus."

The two men clasped hands in the Great Hall, before Severus decided to forego his stoic persona and dragged Draco in for a hug. He ignored the easily-audible whispers of the dunderheads.

Draco allowed his eyes to scan the room after he was released, and saw many people staring at him. The one person conspicuously absent today, however, was Harry. A goblet sat before an empty seat at the Head Table, just to the right of McGonagall.

Draco tried not to feel disappointed.

.:oOo:.

The Whomping Willow shivered beneath Harry, sending snowflakes down into his hair. He watched as the little dots in the castle doused themselves one by one, until the whole school was taken into the night.

Many feelings whirred around his head at the moment, from fear and sadness to excitement. But what he felt most, however, was betrayed. _How could Severus and Minerva do this to me? They know_ exactly _what happened last time I saw Draco!_

There were still two weeks left of winter vacation. Summoning his cloak, he got up from the snow-laden ground and trudged down the slopes to Hogsmeade, where he would find a fireplace.

.:oOo:.

 _Headmistress,_

 _I regret to inform you that something has come up that requires my attention at the moment. As such, I shall not be able to remain on grounds for the rest of break, however I should be back in time to resume school._

 _I shall update you whenever possible._

 _H. J. Potter_

 _Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Minerva stared worriedly at the missive in front of her. It must have been serious if Harry had decided to use his Hogwarts stationary; he _never_ used his stationary.

She did wonder, though, if he wasn't just running away from his personal problems. She had known the moment Severus had put in for his temporary replacement that trouble would come about, but had decided to do what would undoubtedly be best for the students, at the risk of losing one professor.

She pulled a worn sheet of parchment from her desk, and read the letter inscribed on it. She had contemplated sending it many times, but now she wondered if this year would be the one whence she finally did.

Putting it back in the drawer, she thought about her predicament: who would replace Harry if he decided to keep running? It was moments like these, when she felt her castle crumbling around her, that Minerva wondered if she was getting too old for this job. She could use a rest from young people's drama.

.:oOo:.

Draco stared at the roaring fire in front of him, reminiscing about the time before the war, when he was a simple child with simple wants. His life had been nowhere near as harrowing back then.

The flames crackled loudly, startling him from his dazed state. He looked to his right, only just remembering Severus's presence. They had been conversing about the trip, before lapsing into a companionable silence.

"Are you sure you are prepared to teach and live near him? To be confronted with his presence every day?"

"I worry not for my own stability, Severus, only his own."

Severus nodded, albeit reluctantly. Draco had made sure not to think about his plans while in his uncle's presence, lest the man somehow find out what Draco was going to do during the semester. It had taken him many, many years of Mind Healing to get to this position, to be able to do what he was about to, and he feared that anyone could set him back with merely a whisper of doubt.

.:oOo:.

Harry stared blankly at the page laid out before him, willing himself to read but finding himself unable. Try as he might, his mind kept wandering back to Draco, who was roaming about the castle at this very instant. It made him feel betrayed. It made him feel alone.

How could he go back to the castle when the one person who he desired and couldn't have would be there to taunt him every morning, every evening. How did they expect Harry to stand by and allow that to happen? To allow his heartstrings to be tugged upon so heartlessly?

Harry felt a painful contraction in his chest. _It's getting worse_. He had noticed himself getting weaker since Draco's birthday had passed without response, but had dismissed and ignored it, refusing to acknowledge what he knew was happening to himself.

And he certainly couldn't tell anyone else about it. If he did, it would go right to Draco, and he would end up with even more weighing him down than the memories of the war he already had, the memories of what they Death Eaters had done when they found out.

Harry would not allow his mate to be put upon in such a way.

It seemed, then, that the only acceptable course of action would be to return to Hogwarts, and ensure that Draco never suspected what was happening to Harry. He could last a few more months, at least until the summer, but he knew he wouldn't have much longer after that. The longest any of them had made it in this state was thirteen years.

Striding to his desk, Harry pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. It was time to start making amends.

.:oOo:.

Severus looked over at his lover, who was sitting on the window bed, staring out at the blanket of snow covering the streets of New York. Their hotel room was on the top floor, and it was the size of an apartment.

Though he knew that this conversation was necessary, Severus couldn't help but pause as he thought about how to start it. They had only just got to the States, and he didn't want to cast a dour shadow over the rest of their stay. But, he also knew that if he waited any longer, then Sirius might not survive what was to come.

"Sirius," he said, "we need to talk."

Sirius looked over at him, a happy sparkle in his eye. _Such a shame_ , thought Severus. _It will be gone before the hour passes_.

.:oOo:.

Amanda knocked on the door to Professor Potter's office. She was worried— ever since the snowball fight had ended yesterday afternoon, no one had seen hide nor hare of him. And it was notoriously difficult to find anywhere to hide in the castle, especially with all the wards that warned the professors when students went off to...hide together.

She didn't want to bother him, but she it was out of character for him to have missed breakfast as he did, although he never actually seemed to eat anything there. He always showed up promptly, and this was the first time in all her years at Hogwarts when he hadn't.

Raising a hand to knock, she heard a voice call to her. "He's not going to answer."

Looking over, Amanda saw a tall person with blond hair striding toward her. At first, she mistook him for a seventh year, but the crest on his robes was not that of a house, but that of a professor. "Who are you?" she asked. She had never seen him in all her two years of schooling, and she was a bit surprised that McGonagall had hired someone new in the middle of term.

"I'm Professor Malfoy. Professor Snape will be on vacation this semester, and I will be taking over his classes for the duration of his vacation."

Amanda nodded. She stared at the man, waiting for him to walk away so she could knock on the professor's door.

"He's gone away, too," said the man (she was not as yet entirely convinced that he _was_ , in fact, a professor).

Amanda nodded. Shrugging to himself, the man strided away, leaving Amanda alone to her thoughts and the door before her.

She knocked twice. No answer. Again. No answer. A fourth and fifth knock.

Gazing sadly at the door, Amanda decided that it would be no use to try this way. She would need to find another way in, to confront Professor Potter about his absence.

.:oOo:.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please drop a review!


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